


Light Me Up (like a Christmas tree)

by houdini74



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: But no more than would fill a thimble, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Patrick Brewer is a Troll, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, a smidgeon of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27684212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houdini74/pseuds/houdini74
Summary: David has some feelings about the decorations Patrick puts on their Christmas tree.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 50
Kudos: 189





	Light Me Up (like a Christmas tree)

**Author's Note:**

> Theoretically, this takes place during David and Patrick's engagement. I know there's no room in the canon timeline for Christmas, but if Dan Levy can warp the timeline, so can I.

“What’s going on in here?” David stops just inside the door to Patrick’s apartment, overnight bag in one hand. The furniture that he had so carefully arranged months before when Patrick first moved in has been shifted around, the corner near the bathroom cleared out to allow for the eight foot tall fir tree that now bristles in place of the mid-century armchair, its tip almost reaching the ceiling.

“Hi.” Patrick pokes his head up from behind the tree, his hands filled with ornaments, a chagrined look on his face. 

“Hi. What’s this?” He gestures dramatically up and down. “I thought we weren’t having a tree this year?” They’d decided that between the decorations at the store and his dad’s insistence on reprising last year’s Christmas party that decorating Patrick’s apartment was unnecessary. Or so he’d thought.

“I know. It’s just that my mom sent me a bunch of my childhood ornaments and I started going through the box and I wanted a tree to put them on.” Patrick looks sheepish and he puts down the ornaments and comes out of the corner. “You hate it. I should have talked to you first.”

“It’s fine.” He kisses Patrick hello, noticing that some ornaments are made from popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners. Even the vision of a miniature Patrick carefully crafting these monstrosities isn’t enough to make anything about that okay. He shudders to himself.

“Are you sure?” Patrick must catch the note of disdain in his voice because Patrick catches everything, seeing beneath the deflections that are written across his face whether David wants him to or not.

“It’s fine.” His voice is sharper than he means it to be. Patrick tilts his head, looking at him quizzically. His fiancé is so pleased and excited that David doesn’t want to ruin this for him, even if everything is incorrect. “It’s just...did you even mood board a color scheme?”

“Well, I think most of the ornaments are red and green.” Patrick is amused now, his familiar smirk reappearing on his face. He picks up the box from the coffee table and peers inside. “Yep. Red and green. Oh, and this blue one. And some gold ones. And this one is all the colors.” Patrick holds up something that looks like a toilet paper roll pretending to be a multicoloured Santa Claus.

David can’t stop his face from scrunching up in disgust at the mismatched color palettes and bathroom related craft materials. Patrick sits on the couch and puts the box on the coffee table in front of him. “C’mere.”

Reluctantly, he sits on the edge of the couch, not wanting to see what is about to appear from the box. 

“My parents used to buy me an ornament every year for Christmas and lots of my aunts and uncles would get in on it. When I left home, I wasn’t really thinking about Christmas ornaments, but now...I’m really glad my mom sent them.” 

“Yeah…” It’s nice. Everything about Patrick’s family is nice. Sometimes it still crawls up his spine, the notion that Patrick and Clint and Marcy are too nice, that they’re so nice that they’re humoring him, that one day everything will come crashing down around him. Nicely, of course. And sometimes, it’s as though Patrick’s family speaks an unfamiliar language, where love and memories are captured in mismatched Christmas tree ornaments. Not like his own family where the closest thing he has to a childhood Christmas tradition is arguing with Alexis about whose turn it is to make sure his mom doesn’t pass out in the middle of the family Christmas party.

Patrick pulls an ornament out of the box. It’s a baseball player wearing what David has learned is a Toronto Blue Jays outfit and a Santa hat. It’s cute. Patrick holds it carefully in one hand. “I think I was eight when I got this one? It was the year I started Little League.” He hands it to David. He stares at if for a second and reaches to set it on the table. Patrick smiles at him. “Put it on the tree.”

With a huff, he gets up and loops the string of the ornament over one branch of the tree. Patrick has already added lights and an assortment of shiny round ornaments in a variety of colors. The clashing hues of red, green, blue, pink, silver, and gold make his head spin so he turns back to Patrick. 

He holds out a second ornament. “My Nana gave me this one.” David takes the tiny ceramic Santa Claus and hangs it on the tree near the baseball player. Aesthetically, they don’t fit with any acceptable decor but he has to admit they look cute, hanging there together. 

“I made this one in second grade.” Patrick hands him an uneven pom-pom snowman riding a popsicle stick sled.

“My aunt gave me this one.” David adds the tiny kitten to the tree.

“We went to Disneyland one Christmas.” Mickey Mouse joins the other ornaments.

It feels like there must be a hundred ornaments in the box, each one with its own little story. By the time Patrick pulls the last ornament out of the box, the tree is covered. It doesn’t look like any tree David would have decorated. There’s no ribbon, no unifying color palette, no artistically arranged faux artisanal ornaments. All the same, it’s charming. None of the ornaments match and some of them were made by children, including little Patrick’s tiny hands, but it feels...homey.

Patrick slips his arms around his waist and they look at the tree together. “I know it’s not up to your standards.”

“No. It’s nice. I like it.” He leans his head against Patrick’s. “It’s just…”

“Mmm?” 

“You have all these memories…” He squeezes his lips together, not wanting to say what he’s feeling as he looks at Patrick’s tree. 

“David?” Patrick pulls away so he can see his face.

“I don’t have any of that.” He gestures at the tree. “Not that we have any Christmas memories worth remembering. I guess I could hang up an empty pill bottle for my mom or a model of the yachts Alexis was always on or a Rose video key chain or something.” He hiccups damply and tries to cover it with a laugh. 

“Oh, honey.” Patrick presses a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll make new memories that we can add to the tree.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

🎄💙🎄🖤🎄

David’s alone at the store. Patrick’s been away all day, vendor pickups taking him on the road out past Elmdale and ending with a four o’clock meeting at the bank. Behind the counter of the store, David rolls his shoulders. Patrick being away makes him feel like his sweater is too tight, like the time Alexis shrunk his favorite Givenchy in the dryer and thought he wouldn’t notice. As if the sleeves that were an inch too short hadn’t given it away. It’s ridiculous. Patrick’s absence shouldn’t make him feel so itchy. He and Patrick spend almost every waking hour together, there’s no reason David should miss him when he’s gone. 

Being on his own is definitely not the reason David has been cross and out of sorts all day. It’s probably the tour bus of chattering tourists who filled the store but bought next to nothing or the fact that Twyla has mysteriously run out of cocoa powder. If he misses Patrick it’s solely because he doesn’t have anyone to complain to, not for other reasons. He hasn’t quite convinced himself of this by the end of the day, and he’s feeling sorry for himself as he trudges back to Patrick’s apartment. Alone.

Patrick had promised pizza, not the usual from the cafe, but real pizza from the place David likes in Elmdale. The apartment is dark when he gets home. Grumpily, he leaves the lights off and sits on the couch, relishing his chance to pout about Patrick’s absence. He flops backwards on the loveseat, his feet kicking over the end. The Christmas tree smirks at him from the corner, full of softness and memories. He’s worked himself into a satisfying sulk when he hears Patrick’s keys in the lock and the lights flick on. Patrick whistles to himself, the sound comes to a stop when he sees David’s feet hanging off the end of the couch.

“David?”

“Hi.” The poutiness he’s feeling is clear in his voice. Moments later, Patrick comes to stand beside the couch, looking down on him, one hand behind his back.

“Are you okay?” The concern in Patrick’s voice breaks through his funk and he nods. He tries to hold on to his scowl, but the corners of his mouth flicker upwards. It’s nauseating how easily Patrick makes everything better just by being there. 

“Good. I brought you something.” Patrick sets a square gift box in the middle of his chest.

“What’s this?” He raises an eyebrow at Patrick.

“Open it.”

He lifts the lid of the box, his fingers find something soft and definitely made of polyester. He pulls it free of the tissue paper, revealing a bright red pompom rabbit, his googly eyes off-center beneath his construction paper Santa hat. Patrick looks at him solemnly, laughter sparking in his eyes.

“I told you we’d make new Christmas memories.”

“What exactly am I supposed to remember? The fact that my fiancé has no taste?”

“If you like.” Patrick grins at him, unrepentant. “There’s something else.”

The box is heavy on his chest. “Is it a rock to hang on the tree?” He digs under the tissue, inside is a small snow globe about the size of his fist. A ribbon emerges from the top to hang it from the tree. “Very pretty.” It’s heavy and well made, but he doesn’t see the significance. 

“Look at it.”

With a grimace, he takes it out of the box and holds it up to the light. A tiny model of Rose Apothecary stares back at him. He gives it a shake and snow rains down on their miniature store. When he looks closer, he can see a pair of tiny figures, one in blue and one in black, standing in the doorway of the store. He swallows the lump in his throat.

“Merry Christmas, David.” Patrick leans down to give him another quick kiss. “Happy memories.”

“Merry Christmas, Patrick.” He tugs on Patrick’s shoulders until his fiancé overbalances and falls on top of him. He cradles the snow globe to his chest as Patrick kisses him again. “You know what would make this perfect holiday moment even more perfect?”

“What’s that?” Patrick nuzzles at the underside of his jaw, clearly trying to distract him. 

David turns his head away, trying to hide his grin. “If I was holding a nice slice of pizza.”

A look of horror crosses Patrick’s face, and he pulls away, sitting on the edge of the sofa. “Oh, ffffff….”

David grins and pokes Patrick in the shoulder, the opportunity to tease Patrick instantly making him feel better. “I’m not kidding. Where’s the pizza?”


End file.
